


An Unvisited Shore

by Anonymous



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Father/Son Incest, Fingerfucking, Incest, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 16:19:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Herc takes Chuck apart slowly and carefully with his mouth and his hands, and usually doesn't bother putting him back together again. That's exactly the way Chuck likes it.</p><p>Prompt: http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/2747.html?thread=3232187#t3232187</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unvisited Shore

**Author's Note:**

> For this prompt: http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/2747.html?thread=3232187#t3232187

When the need gets too much, the atmosphere too frigid and tense, that's when one of them starts it. A quick headlock, a careless elbow and they're down on the mat fighting, duking it out, and whoever wins, wins _all_  for that night. The benefits of losing aren't so shabby and sometimes in the deepest bit of himself where even the Drift doesn't reach, Chuck can concede that. That doesn't stop him from giving it his best shot everytime, and sometimes he does it, gets Herc down on his knees or on his back and fuck it's amazing, and he wants it again and again with a gnawing intensity. This, though, this is what takes Chuck apart piece by piece, makes him curl his fingers into the backs of his thighs from the effort of holding himself back, makes him want to turn over and bury his face in his pillow so he can moan with at least a pretence of dignity. Herc knows him though, doesn't even accord him that dignity, makes him lie on his back and hold his legs up, so Herc can get deep down between his thighs and eat him out, without a second's thought, and all Chuck can do is moan into air, try to stifle the sounds that leak out of his throat, though his success is limited because damn, Herc knows what he's doing, knows how to take him apart with fingers and a clever tongue that never stops moving, never stops opening him up, bare and raw and vulnerable enough to make him squirm in shame, and heat up in anticipation of even more.

 

They don't do this often and it doesn't change anything for them, doesn't make things better, a whole complicated mess of tangled emotions knotted up between them, but neither of them can stop, neither of them can resist this when it happens, and Chuck takes some comfort in knowing he's not the only one who this turns upside down and inside out. Right now, with Herc between his legs, licking slow and leisurely, not speeding up one single bit no matter what Chuck sounds like, it's not much comfort at all though, and he closes his eyes, blocks out the sight of how hard his dick is just from this, just from Herc shoving his tongue in and fucking him with it slowly, the sensation entirely different from a dick or fingers, smaller, softer and more intense, a whole heap more embarrassing how sensitive he is, how he can't help himself from pushing down and wanting more, how wet and open he feels when Herc pulls back, the air cool on his exposed hole, and then Herc is pushing at him, muttering to turn over and Chuck is half way considering a _yeah right_  just to be contrary but he's only going to be hurting himself in the long run, so he contents himself with turning over, spreading his legs apart, until he hears Herc.

 

"Not like that. On your knees," and right then and there humiliation wafts over him, a slow hot burn because this is what Herc does when he wins. He makes Chuck complicit every step of the way, opens himup and fucks him deep, drags out everything he keeps hidden, and doesn't bother putting him back together again, because that's not the way he does it. When Chuck gets the upper hand, he's fast and brutal because that's his style and he doesn't have the patient cruelty that Herc does, one set of genes at least that isn't shared. He's on his knees before he knows it, can feel Herc spreading him open and going right back at him, hot and wet and precise, nothing wasted, an obscene devotion it feels like, though Chuck doesn't feel worshipped, he feels devoured, hot and shivery within his own skin, stretched taut over muscle and bone. Herc isn't one for dirty talk, and especially not when his mouth is occupied with other things, but the clench of his fingers on Chuck's ass says more than a thousand words, possession and sure infuriating confidence all at once, and Chuck pushes back, tries to reassert some shred of control over everything that is happening, but no dice.

 

When Herc finally pulls back like his jaw is aching, Chuck feels boneless, strain already radiating up his arms not just from the pose but the tenseness of his locked arms and he just wants to collapse and beg to come, beg for anything, but he knows this isn't anywhere close to the end. He feels like he's open, just waiting, and that freaks him out more than anything. Then Herc is back again, doesn't bother taking it slow and easy, slides two fingers into him, nothing more than saliva to smooth the way, pushes them in like he knows Chuck will open so easy, wants something up his ass so bad he won't object and the casual disregard combined with two of his father's thick fingers sends a pulse up his spine, like a shiver digging in deep, and he thinks with more than a little horror that he could come like this, licked open and then fucked with two fingers, falling apart from the way doing this strips a little more from him each time.

 

He hears the flip of a cap and then the commissary issue lube is being worked into him, sudden slickness making the entrance easier, a glide rather than a fight, and when a third finger works its way in beside the other two he's almost beyond words, can barely draw in enough breath to keep him going, stretched open as he is around three fingers, and something in him still wants more. There's never enough. Not enough fingers, not enough of the stretched burn, not enough of Herc, just the bits and pieces he leaves left over and then blames Chuck for not lapping them up and being the good son to elicit a smile.

 

 _Is this enough of a good son now?_  he thinks, cants his hips a little bit more, gives in bed what he'll withhold until his dying day in every other respect, because these are the pieces of himself _he'll_  give away and if it's not enough for Herc then that's too fucking bad. He's trembling and shaking apart, thighs seizing up a little and he's not sure if it's worth it to sink down onto his arms, wonders how much deeper Herc will get, whether he'll wring an orgasm out of Chuck first, leave him loose and pliant while he works his cock in. Then he feels the nudge against his entrance of a fourth finger and Jesus that's too much, and too good all at the same time, pain enough to remind him why he's here, and a whole step closer to the fullness that feels like an impossible dream. He's not even sure if he can take that much, feels his ass convulse and bites his tongue to keep himself from asking for more or begging Herc to stop, twin opposite impulses ranged against each other, and he knows how much Herc gets off on this, seeing how much Chuck's ass can take, how many fingers, how much tongue, how loud does he whine when he gets fucked properly with a cock, it's written all over his face and when they get deep into the Drift, it's stamped on Herc's mind, a man with simple needs and complex wants.

 

The fourth finger is out, an abandoned experiment it seems, but Herc seems to be enjoying three just as much, fucking them out with a rapidity that discomposes Chuck, too fast to feel properly full, like a taunt and it's still more than he can take, enough that he has to slump down onto one arm and get a hand around his dick. Herc knows better than to protest, that's a swift way to get a kick to the chest in this position, Chuck has learnt to ride the wave of being so helplessly exposed and shattered but he's not letting Herc dictate when he gets off, not this time. He barely gets his hand around his dick though before he's shooting off, control shredded from him, keyed up so tight and high that he can't even feel shame, his ass contracting around Herc's fingers for long moments.

 

What comes after is almost an anti-climax for them both Chuck thinks. He's got his and it's plain enough from the way Herc looks at him, from everything he feels in the Drift, that seeing Chuck dissolve, if not into his component parts then at least into speechlessness, is what really gets Herc going, what really gets that thick dick hard. Herc fucks in the opposite fashion to how he works on Chuck, fast and hard and deep, a steady pounding that rocks Chuck, sends too sensitive shivers of pleasure-pain down his spine, Herc's dick slickly sliding in, fucking in with the minimum of fuss, until he comes. Afterwards they lie there, not touching, Chuck wet and open still, and Herc drags his fingers across the skin of Chuck's thighs, tucks them right back up into Chuck, too much pressure, too close, almost painful against the reddened sensitive skin,and Chuck considers telling him to fuck off, his time has expired until the next fight. The press is almost comforting though, almost enough to make him feel like this hasn't left him as empty as always, and he doesn't move, lets Herc have this for now before the day starts again and he fucks it all back up.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback appreciated


End file.
